


Thicker than Water

by Fernandidilly_yo



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I didn't mean to dump angst, Set after Bloodlines, Spoilers for Season 5, because you all know I had too, but filled with angst I am, hurt keith, keith has some issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-28 10:12:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13901841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fernandidilly_yo/pseuds/Fernandidilly_yo
Summary: (Set right after season 5 episode 5)“How long?” Keith asks, taking another step into Kolivan's office, his legs feel unstable underneath him, his body disconnected and flimsy. “How long have you known Krolia is my mother?”





	Thicker than Water

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning;** Spoilers for season five of Voltron
> 
> Season five came out in one of the busiest weeks I've had in months, and that cliffhanger is horrid, so I am glad to have this up now. (ᵔᴥᵔ)
> 
> **Disclaimer-** I wish I owned Voltron, but alas I am just a mere peasant.

**Thicker than Water-**

“I still can’t believe you’d give them the weapon just to save me,” Keith spat, he was angry and frustrated- with himself for losing the fight and becoming apprehended so easily- and at Krolia for risking everything just for him. “You compromised the mission.”

Krolia continues to type at the control panel, she only spares Keith a glance over her shoulder as she says, “ _Keith,_ shut up and trust me.”

Keith swallows, uncurling his hands from the tight fists he had had them in before, the teenager is taken aback by the words he used back when he first met Pidge, Hunk, and Lance; it’s more the shock of that rather than actual obedience that keeps Keith from speaking up again.

“Commander Trugg, we are prepared for liftoff,” Krolia speaks over the comms, her back still to Keith, “are you at the weapons console?”

“Affirmative,” the Galra Commander replies.

“The code is beta-5-2-7-4-omega-5-4-5.”

Keith grits his teeth, he wants to stop this, wants to figure out another way, but they’re out of time and out of options, and even if that weren’t the case Krolia has taken the situation out of Keith’s hands.

The teenager turns away, stalking over to the pilot’s chair and preparing for a quick retreat, his movements are harsh and jerky, a manifestation of how he’s feeling inside, uncertain and frantic in a way that Kolivan has said makes Keith reckless and wild.

Keith does his best to shove those feelings down.

“Confirmed,” Trugg says over the comms.

Immediately followed by Krolia’s yell of, “get us out of here, now!”

* * *

It’s only when the Galra have stopped firing, when Keith has set their ship on a course for the Marmora base and they are out of immediate danger that he says, “we’re far enough away. They stopped firing at us.”

The teenager pulls the lever for his chair to slide back, (and for a fleeting moment Keith finds himself missing Red, the way that she had been able to tell what he wanted when he wanted it, how the Lion could predict what Keith needed sometimes even before he could) It’s not the same flying inanimate ships, not anymore, not after being a part of something so much greater, something that held more meaning than Keith could even comprehend.

Keith blinks the thoughts of Red and his former team away as he rises from the chair, Red belongs to Lance now, and Keith belongs to the Blades- that’s how things are, and it’s better, Voltron is stronger than it’s ever been, Keith leaving was the right thing to do, the noble thing to do.

“I should give this back to you,” Krolia says, extending Keith’s knife out to him and breaking the teenager out of his spiraling thoughts.

Keith takes it with a quick glance to the knife. “How were you able to use it?” he asks, he thought each blade was coded to its owner, it was to keep the Marmorites safe, a precaution so no one could steal their weapons and use them against the Marmora.

“Because it used to be mine…” Krolia answers; Keith feels himself tense, feels the way his blood turns cold in his veins. “Before I gave it to your father.”

Something in Keith’s chest tightens uncomfortably, suddenly the air within the ship feels too thin, it makes Keith’s head spin in a horrible way. “You’re my mother?” he asks, the words bounce off the metal walls it seems, coming back and echoing inside of Keith’s rib cage in a mocking sort of way.

They’re words Keith never truly thought he would get to use, the term ‘mom’ something unreachable, unattainable, never belonging inside Keith’s vocabulary. He used to think about this moment when he was a kid, the day he would find his mother and ask her why she left him, why she never came back for him?

But then Keith grew up, he realized that he would probably never find his mother- his only connection to her had been his father, but he was presumed dead when Keith was just a naive six-year-old, and there came a time, a moment when Keith finally gave up on that hope, on that dream.

And then he found the Blue Lion and rescued Shiro, he lived in space and learned of a war, he woke his blade and realized his true lineage, and somewhere down the line Keith had begun hoping again, but that was all it was, a hope, one he didn’t think about because there were more important things, dire, horrible, life-threatening, things, and it didn’t matter if Keith’s mother was still out there.

Not in the grand scheme of things.

“Yes,” Krolia answers, but it’s hushed, only for Keith’s ears to hear, like it’s a secret, one that will shatter and blow away in the wind if they aren’t careful with its fragileness. “You are my son.”

Keith’s legs no longer want to support him, his knees buckle from under him, but the teenager barely feels the impact with the ground. Keith’s mind is caught in a whirlwind, too many thoughts jumbling up with emotions he can’t decipher. 

His father had told him stories of his mother, of how selfless and brave she was, how she loved Keith and hadn’t wanted to leave them. But there were no details within those tales, and those stories had died when Keith’s father did.

All of Keith’s memories of his mother had been from those accounts his father had told him, and over time those memories faded, and it was hard for Keith to tell what details were real, and what was painted up from his imagination.

She became a blur after that, changing and shifting in Keith’s mind as he grew up, bouncing from home to home and never finding a new family; for a long time, Keith had thought she would come for him, that she would save him from his loneliness.

But after years in foster-care Keith realized how naive that was to think; he had then wondered if what his father told him of his mother was just lies, a way to make a child not feel worthless and abandoned, unloved by their own mother.

It was then that the idea of his mother had left Keith with bitterness and contempt. He had needed someone to blame, and at the time a missing mother had been the perfect person to hate.

Except Keith had never really hated her, even if he had wanted to, through it all his mother was nothing more than a mystery, an unthinkable concept that he would never really know.

But here she is, standing right in front of Keith.

And Keith doesn’t know what to do with that, doesn’t know how he feels. Because he can’t blame her, he can’t be angry at her for never coming for him, for leaving him in the first place- because she was a Blade, she had a mission, a war to fight and people to protect.

Keith understands that, he does.

But somehow even with having a reason after all these years, finding out that she left not out of spite or hatred, but because she _had to_ \- it doesn’t make him feel better, it doesn’t take away all the hurt and sorrow Keith has had to learn to cope with.

Keith almost feels numb, detached from the situation. He’s not sure how to process, instinct isn’t going to help him here, it seems like nothing will. “W-why’d you leave the knife?” Keith asks, he isn’t sure what else to say, most of his questions have been answered now that he knows she is still an active Blade.

Most of those questions seem trivial and childish anyway.

Krolia’s eyebrows pinch together slightly, she’s bowed over Keith, crouched down and looking perplexed; when did that happen? Keith can’t place when she got this close to him, when she felt it necessary to do so.

“I hoped that if I were unable to come back to you, maybe it would lead you back to me,” Krolia says, her voice is still soft, pitched as if she were talking to a child. “And if I were no longer alive, then maybe it would lead you to the rest of the Marmora.”

Keith nods, still in a daze, his mouth feels dry, making it hard to form words. “How long have you known?” he asks, it’s hardly more than a rasp of air, “how long have you known I was with the Blades of Marmora?”

Krolia sighs, her lips pursing for a moment. “I was informed when a half-earthling the same age as my lost child, was found with my blade,” she leans away from Keith here, giving him some of the space he needs in order to breathe. “I cannot tell you how much I wanted to return to you Keith, but I was deeply undercover and couldn’t risk the mission.”

“Mission before the individual,” Keith responds on autopilot.

Krolia frowns, it shows more in her eyes rather than her mouth. “Yes, but we have found each other now,” she says as she tilts back toward Keith, her expression soft, hopeful, maybe even longing.

Keith shakes his head rapidly, wishing that he had his mask up, that he still had some sort of barrier between them. He feels raw and exposed under Krolia’s gaze, found out and _seen_ in a way he has never been prepared for.

Pressing himself more firmly against the wall the teenager gasps out a quiet, “no,” his throat feeling too tight, Keith’s surprised he was able to squeeze out the word at all. “I need…I need _time_.”

Krolia (his mother, his _mom_ ) pulls away, her hand coming back from where she had been going to cup Keith’s cheek. Her face smooths back out into a calm controlled look, one that Keith has worn so many times himself, it’s a guise that covers a galaxy of emotions, an expression learned and perfected to hide away what you don’t want others to see.

“Of course,” she answers simply, coming to a stand and putting space between them once again. “I understand that you might need some time to process,” she gives a tiny smile, one that doesn’t reach her eyes, before walking to the pilot’s seat and taking control of the ship.

Somehow, she feels both suffocatingly close, and yet, agonizingly far away.

* * *

It’s all Keith can do not to full-on sprint once they reach the hanger and the doors to their stolen ship start to lower.

It’s the cowardly thing to do, it’s childish and stupid to try and run from this. But Keith doesn’t know what else to do, isn’t sure what he even _can_ do.  

Back on Earth, it was the easiest thing to run, no one wanted Keith, he had no tether, nothing to keep him in place or immobile. But now he does, he has random ties and responsibilities pulling him in every direction it seems.

So, no, Keith can’t run away, he can’t steal a hover-bike or camp out in the woods, he can’t take off like every molecule in his body is _screaming_ at him to do. But that doesn’t mean he’s gonna stick around either.

Keith’s not sure how he even makes it to his quarters, it’s all just a blur of movement and the familiar need to be _alone,_ the desperate desire to get away from Krolia and to get out of there before Kolivan asks to be debriefed on the mission.

Keith paces back and forth, his thumb running over his fingers in an almost frantic way. He’s a jittery mess of energy, unable to stay still but unwilling to let himself loose on the combat floor- people are required to partner up when they train here at the Blade, there are no magic healing pods after all.

Keith continues to march back and forth, his feet making an unconscious pattern now. He feels completely out of his depth, he can’t stab this situation, he can’t ask for help with these circumstances, and he can’t run from them either.

Huffing Keith flops onto his bed, it dwarfs him here, but most things do at the Blade, everything made for people twice the teenager’s size. It’s made Keith feel more like a kid than he wants to admit, he’s the youngest Galra at the base and by far the smallest and most inexperienced. 

And it sure doesn’t help Keith feel like a capable adult right now.

The teenager stares at his ceiling for a moment, he wants Red, he needs to talk to her about all of this. She would be able to help him figure out what it is he’s feeling, help Keith decipher what’s going on in his head.

But even if Red was here, even if Keith was allowed to talk to her- he doesn’t think he’d be able to; this almost feels like he’s betraying Red in a way, which is stupid, Keith knows it is. But Red had been the closest mother figure Keith had ever had, which is sad and ridiculous, Red is a mechanical lion, not a parent.

But she had felt like what a parent is supposed to be, fiercely protective and filled with a loving devotion, Keith could feel it wash off of her in waves- he hadn’t had to guess or doubt whether those emotions were genuine, if they were an act of nothing more than kindness, or a facade played up in order to get something, Keith could _feel_ them for himself.

But Red isn’t his anymore and he isn’t her’s.

Keith slams a fist down on his mattress, biting back the yell that’s been building in his chest for hours, he wants to take his anger and frustration out on the combat floor, he wants out of his too small room where he feels trapped by the walls but dwarfed by the too large furniture.  

He wants to run until he can hardly breathe, until he’s panting and shaking, and his legs are going numb from overexertion. He wants to steal a ship and just _fly_ , piloting at dangerous speeds and not giving a quiznak because it makes him feel alive.

But most of all Keith wants to talk to Shiro.

He needs his brother, with his quiet voice and calm advice. But he and Shiro aren’t like that anymore, the Galra, the war, has put walls up between them. Keith has trouble expressing himself to people at times, but it’s not that way with Shiro; the man had always felt safe, had always made Keith feel understood.

But something has changed, where Keith had felt free to just _talk_ to Shiro, had never questioned the man’s kindness toward him, a sense of anxiety and a hesitancy has replaced it.

It had never been like that before, not even when Keith was a hotheaded twelve-year-old who felt angry at the whole world. Shiro had always known how to get through to Keith, how to calm him down or encourage him.

That’s gone now, that easy relationship where Keith felt safe, where he knew even if he messed up Shiro wouldn’t leave, he wouldn’t throw Keith away. It’s been tugged at and frayed so much it no longer can bounce back to the way it used to be.

It’s a large part of why Keith left to join the Blades, he didn’t think he could cope with Shiro not wanting him, doesn’t think he could mentally handle it. So, Keith did the only thing he could think to do, he pushed first, he ran before he could be shoved away.

Keith grits his teeth, slamming his fist against the wall this time, the impact is jarring to his fingers, but it allows the teenager blames the stinging in his eyes on his throbbing hand, though he knows that’s not the reason. 

* * *

Keith makes bad decisions when he’s upset, it’s a continuing trend, always has been, one that Keith can’t seem to break.

A dismayed Keith runs away from group-homes in the dead of night, an angry Keith cuts his own hair with nothing more than a knife and burning eyes, a grieving Keith decks Iverson in the face and gets expelled from school, a distraught Keith confronts Kolivan in his office.

The teen has his hood up, but leaves his mask down; sure, Keith’s probably making a mistake right now, but where Keith had meant the utmost disrespect to Iverson back at the Garrison when he challenged the man, Keith doesn’t want to make an enemy out of Kolivan.

The door slides open with a _‘hiss’_ as the teenager slips in, Keith’s never barged into Kolivan’s office, wouldn’t have even thought of it. He’s only been in here twice before, and both times Kolivan had been the one to lead Keith through the door.

Keith might have had the rationality to think of all the lines he’s crossing on a regular day, might’ve considered his actions a little more carefully if he wasn’t working on instinct, but logic has taken a back seat in the crashing ship of emotions that Keith is piloting right now.  

Kolivan regards Keith with a straight back and a cocked eyebrow, he looks unimpressed but not surprised. “Keith-” he starts, but the teenager interrupts.

“How long?” Keith asks, taking another step into the room, his legs feel unstable underneath him, his body disconnected and flimsy. “How long have you known Krolia is my mother?”

Kolivan is sat in a chair, but even so, he’s still the same height as Keith. “I suspected before The Trails, but my suspicion was confirmed when you awoke your blade.”

The bitterness of betrayal thickly coats Keith’s tongue, it isn’t an unfamiliar taste, but it’s never one that Keith stomachs well, he swallows it down with difficulty. “You knew- _you knew_ all this time, and didn’t _tell_ _me?”_

The room feels stifling, the filtered oxygen pumped into the base that has always felt too thin to Keith now feeling nonexistent. The feeling only gets worse when Kolivan comes to a stand behind his desk. “You must understand-” Kolivan starts again.

But Keith doesn’t hear him through the rushing in his ears. “All these months that I’ve been with the Blade and _you-y-you_ …why did you send me to get her? Why did you inform her but never bother to tell _me?!”_

Keith hunches over for a moment before he pulls himself back up by nothing more than sheer force of will. He feels cut open and exposed but also too full, like he’s overflowing with too many thoughts and too many feelings for his body to hold, they’re all bursting out of Keith, and no matter how hard he might try Keith can’t seem to hide any of them away.

“It was not the time and not my place,” Kolivan informs, his jaw is clenched tightly, his shoulders held stiff; Keith knows that he’s pushing this too far, that he shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be questioning the leader of the Marmora.

Knowing that doesn’t stop Keith though. “I had a right to know!” Keith practically yells; he’s lost control of himself, his breathing erratic and his eyes stinging. “I had a right to know my mom is alive and _out there!”_

Kolivan takes a step forward, he towers over Keith, the teen knows it’s supposed to be intimidating, that this is Kolivan’s way of telling him to stand down. But he _can’t_ , even if Keith wanted to, he’s not sure he could begin to gather up all the scattered pieces of himself.

“You do not come to me questioning my reasons without allowing my explanation,” Kolivan practically growls, though it comes off more irritated than angry. “You cannot allow your recklessness and emotions to gain control of you, kit.”

Keith crosses his arms, huffing out a breath at the reprimand. He’s still not exactly sure what it means when the older Blade’s call him ‘kit’, but Keith gets the feeling they’re calling him a kid, teasing him for his inexperience.

“You have seen what the Empire is capable of,” Kolivan continues, he’s still glowering at Keith, but his words no longer hold the underlying rumble they had before. “You have witnessed first hand the death and destruction they have caused.”

Keith scrunches up his eyes, his mouth twisting, “what does this have to do with-”

Kolivan takes another step toward Keith, crowding the teenager against the wall. “It is _my_ turn to speak,” he cuts Keith off. “If you are insistent that this become a brawl than I suggest you find a partner on the combat floor.” Kolivan makes his scowl even heavier somehow, his disapproval weighs on Keith’s shoulders. _“Understood?”_

Keith does his best to curl his shoulders without touching the Galra in front of him. “Yes, Sir,” he concedes.

Kolivan leans away, but he doesn’t step back to allow Keith from his place at the wall. “This war has claimed countless lives, including many Marmora,” Kolivan continues. “Krolia has been deeply undercover for years within Ranveig’s camp and I could not pull her out of such a high position.”

Keith nods to show that he’s listening, which either Kolivan appreciates or ignores, it’s hard to tell when Keith can’t force himself to make eye contact with the older.  

“The risk of Krolia being found out and killed were high, I did not wish to tell you of your mother until we could plan a safe extraction for her. Trugg and Ladnok’s war over the territory forced my hand in the matter, however; and I thought it best to send you for Krolia.”

Keith shakes his head making his bangs fall into his eyes, his anger has cooled, leaving Keith’s limbs loose and numb, but the teenager still doesn’t _understand_. “But why-” he starts.

“I did not inform you of your mother’s whereabouts because she could’ve been killed at any moment,” Kolivan plows on, “it would give you a false hope of reuniting with her. Better to not hope at all than to grieve the loss of it.”

Keith’s knees feel weak and wobbly, suddenly the teenager is very grateful for the wall behind him, he might have fallen without its support. His head is spinning, this new information trying to mix with the old.

Kolivan didn’t keep this from Keith because he didn’t trust him, he didn’t withhold this knowledge because of some other ulterior motive, he did it to _protect_ Keith. Which is…it’s something Keith would have never considered.

It makes him feel uncertain, whereas before Keith had felt that he was just another Blade in the eyes of Kolivan, just another soldier, now…now he doesn’t know where he stands, he doesn’t know what role he is supposed to play in this.

Keith allows himself to slide down to the floor, he’s back to feeling too full and ripped open at the same time, but now it’s for very different reasons.

* * *

Keith is floating somewhere between numb and exhausted.

He’s not sad or angry, he isn’t upset or disappointed, he’s _nothing_. 

Which is probably why when Kolivan steps out of the room with the order to _“stay here”_ trailing behind him Keith doesn’t even _think_ of breaking the command.  

The teenager doesn’t move from his place on the floor, he just tugs his hood higher up and presses his nose to his knees. He feels resigned and hollowed out, Keith is used to lies, he’s used to mistrust and disappointment.

But Keith isn’t used to secrets of protection, he doesn’t know what to do with being treated like a child. Because that is the role he is left to play in this, isn’t it? In this situation Keith is a lost orphan and not a Blade, not a Paladin or a Warrior, he’s just _Keith_.

The thought makes the teenager’s mouth feel sticky, his head buzzes with the fact that Kolivan doesn’t see him as an equal, but as a child, a _‘kit’_.

Keith hasn’t been a kid since his social worker dropped him off at the Garrison when he was twelve.

Or possibly even before then, maybe Keith lost his innocents when he was eight and he realized he would never truly fit in, or perhaps it was a slower process, chipped away with every family that didn’t want him.

Or maybe…maybe, Keith hasn’t been a kid since he was six-years-old, and he was told his dad wouldn’t be coming back.

So, no, Keith doesn’t know how to play this part, he’s out of practice and without training, Keith’s been taking care of himself longer than not, and he doesn’t need anyone to tell him kind-lies or secrets of safety.

That doesn’t mean people haven’t been doing so anyway.  

When the door slides quietly back open Keith tilts his head up, but it isn’t Kolivan that stands above him, it’s Krolia, his mother.

Because of course it is, of course Kolivan had gone to retrieve her, because this is between Krolia and Keith, this isn’t Kolivan’s doing, it isn’t his fault. Keith understands that now.

Krolia’s in a dark-gray under suit, it’s what most the Marmora’s rest in, Keith wonders if she truly was sleeping, and if so, how had she managed it? Keith had been so wound up before he confronted Kolivan, sleep had been the last thing on his mind.

Krolia lets out a small sigh as she crouches down to sit on the floor across from Keith. The teenager eyes her from over the tops of his knees, his mouth not allowing him to form any coherent words yet.

“I see you inherited my self-destructive tendencies,” Krolia teases, a slight chuckle coloring her tone.

Keith almost says something about his harmful behaviors coming from growing up an orphan, he almost spits something about a childhood filled with distrust of people in general and doubt in himself as a person.

But Keith doesn’t voice those things, because Krolia hasn’t done anything to deserve them.

When the joke falls on deaf ears Krolia takes in a breath and folds her hands in her lap, her clawed fingers making loose fists. “I know you asked for time, I realize. But I would like the chance to explain, I know this must be difficult for you, but I want you to understand, Keith.”

Keith wants to understand too, has wanted an explanation to all the missing pieces of his life’s puzzle for _so long_ that the thought of finally seeing the whole picture almost physically _hurts_.

It feels hard to breathe for some odd reason, but as Keith glances over to Krolia, to his _mother_ , he realizes he isn’t the only one that has been waiting for this day, he wasn’t alone in his loneliness, in his longing.

Krolia has felt all those things too, has known where to find Keith, where her son was all of these years, but unable to do anything about it, not allowed to reach out or run back to Keith because of the war. It shows in the set of her tense shoulders, in her pursed lips and sad eyes.

These years have been hard on Keith, but how much more so where they for Krolia?

“I-I want to know,” Keith chokes out, his throat dry and his lips tingling. “Tell me everything.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to write something with Keith and Kolivan for a while now...however, Keith yelling at Kolivan was not really what I had in mind. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Please drop a comment, they give me life! 
> 
> Fernandidilly-yo out!


End file.
